"Guri!" roared Nog.
The Shaman shuffled up with an oilskin bag in her mouth, set it down, and loosened the drawstring.
Aura billowed out of it in silvery tufts, spiraling into the skies like a storm unleashed in the Astral Plane—though to the eye, it was just a sack falling. All around them, Rhinos were setting up little torches.
"This is one of the most cherished traditions of the Rhino tribes," Guri said to Zane, eyes wrinkling at the edges. "The Bone Rite. The first Bone is a special thing."
He nodded. "I'm ready."
She gave him a tap of the horn. "Very good, dear. Only the strongest of any species gets a Bone. To carry one is to carry the future of the Rhinos on your back. Each Bone here can trace its origins thousands of years—some to the Ancestors themselves."
Then she shuffled off the skin, and they floated out, each floating in a lake of deep silver light.
Most were horns, though he caught a tooth and a rib-bone in there. Silver scripts shimmered over them. Their aura blasted him like a warm gale; faintly, he could hear the battling of Rhinos in the distance, and he knew he was hearing sounds from long ago.
"They look different before they are bonded," said Guri. She looked at each Bone with affection as she went between them, putting them in their proper places. "For a Rhino, to bond with a Bone is to merge with it. That Bone strengthens our own."
The Barbarian Sage hopped in. "For us humans, it fuses with our spirits. Gives its essence to our Sacred Weapons! It grants us new potential, see, in terms of strength. But even better—grants a new Sacred Skill. That's the good stuff."
Guri nodded. "To claim a Bone, it must resonate with your spirit—It chooses you as much as you choose it," she told Zane. "The Bones know. They can tell something of soul and body, of those who come before them—and the very best Bones can tell something of Fate, too. Those Bones must see greatness before they agree."
Zane surveyed the stock, feeling out their auras. They all felt quite good to him; each gave him a feeling of sturdiness. It felt like a wealth of great prizes ranged before him. On a whim—"How many Bones can I take?"
"You'd like more than one?" Guri wheezed, looking at the Barbarian Sage. "He's got your appetite!"
"It's one per power level, starting at Ascendant," laughed the Barbarian Sage. "Though it's pretty damned rare to get even one Bone this early."
To the very left, there was a 10,000-year-old Bone. The farther he looked, the older they got; each felt stronger than the last. And he felt the residue of Rhino souls—the memories of the beasts who'd wielded them left on the Bones. Old echoes. They weren't alive, he was pretty sure. But he could feel a certain presence to them.
The Bones at the end were strongest by far.
He saw a proud, shiny horn, nearly straight, shaped like a very thick tapering spear. He was sure it was the strongest 100,000-year-old Bone he'd ever felt.
Guri followed his gaze. "That one is a Named Bone. 700,000 years old—Named Bones are so-called because their names pop up over and over in our lores and histories. It was once held as the second Bone of Chief Roam—the Rhino Chief was Beast-King of the Plains for a hundred thousand years. It's called Earthbreaker, dear."
Zane took a moment to soak in the sight of it. It was majestic—it had a certain shine to it only legendary weapons had.
"Chief Roam used it to break the rule of the tyrannical Heavenly Elephant Momon the Cruel and bring peace to the Plains. For a first Bone, it would be a tremendous thing. It was a tremendous thing for Roam when he got it as a lad—I was there, you know—laying out the Bones, just as now. He was so proud, the little thing."
Shaman Guri sighed happily at the thought.
But there was one more Bone in the lineup—the biggest of them all. A chunker of a thing that nearly looked more like a battering ram than a Bone, jutting proudly skyward, putting all the rest in its shadow.
A silver sheen ran down its entire length, though it was chipped at the end, making a blunt jagged point—but somehow it only enhanced the Bone's stature.
The moment he set eyes on it, he didn't want to look away.
"Does that one have a name?" said Zane.
It was very old; he wasn't sure how old, but it felt a great deal older than even Earthbreaker. Yet he hardly felt any soul residues on it. It stood there proud, untouched, peerless.
"That one?" Guri blinked. "That one is a Bone with no history."
Zane's brow furrowed. "No one has claimed it?"
"Not since its very first owner died—some say it was the Great Ancestor himself," said Guri. "It's a very picky Bone—it's seen a thousand Bone Rites. And not once has it reacted."
That sounded like a challenge to Zane.
But that wasn't why he was interested in it—at least, not the only reason. Something about the feel of it seemed right to him. There was a Bone that stood proud and alone—the one above all.
"It is called the Forgotten Bone," said Guri.
Its aura swallowed up everything. Blasting constantly, washing over them all. The Shaman's voice seemed to grow more distant.
"We Rhinos believe if a Bone chooses you, you were always meant to have it. That is the will of the Ancestors. That is Fate."
Zane nodded absently.
Those last few Bones had to be rare treasures. Even for a tribe as storied as the Titan Rhino.
It felt a bit strange to him, standing here.
If it were a human tribe, they might save the best Bones for themselves—might not lay them all out. Zane just got there, after all. Normally he'd almost expect someone to butt in—question why he got to have a crack at it.
But the Rhinos all seemed rather fine with it, standing around. Or rather, simply happy to take what comes.
He thought about what the Shaman said—that it was Fate's to decide. He thought about the way they floated through the mud baths.
He liked these people.
Guri gave a nod like she was encouraging him and stepped back. And Zane knew it was time.
With all eyes on him, he went up—walked past the first Bone. A 10,000-year-old Bone, short and stubby, but sturdy.
It lit up in the Astral Plane as he passed. Its glow in the real world strengthened too; it vibrated; in the Astral Plane, there was a sound like a struck gong.
Zane could feel the potential in that Bone—a mass of wispy soul-like power. Something about it called to him; something tugged at his spirit. If he bonded with it, he knew he'd gain a new strength.
But he kept going. Went past the second Bone, the Rib-Bone—it had to be a few dozen millennia older.
It lit up too as he went by. A gong-note echoed over the Plains.
All around the circle, Rhinos were perking up.
He went by the third horn, and he felt its aura brush over him, getting a sense of him. Then—
Gong…
The note shivered the grasses.
The fourth Bone was the first 100,000-year-old Bone. And when he went by, it too struck a note.
Nog had looked on the verge of falling back asleep, but he woke up at that sound. "Oh?" He blinked, then guffawed. "Looks like your lad's on a roll, Jogo! When's the last time an Ascendant got a 100,000-year-old first Bone?"
The Barbarian Sage shrugged. "Don't think I've ever seen it. Might be it's happened a handful of times."
There was a knowing smile on his face. "Go on, Zane."
Zane went by the fifth horn now—a horn any Minor God would be proud to take, he was sure, well in the 100,000-year range. He was getting to the deep end now. GONG…
The Rhinos looked at each other, then at Zane.
They weren't much for reactions—but how quiet everything got spoke louder than any cheer or gasp.
The sixth Bone was Earthbreaker.
Zane went straight up to it—so close he was lost in its aura. A fierce, jagged aura—yet there was something sturdy to it too, a firm, unyielding nature, as all Titan Rhinos had. Only moreso.
He felt the aura perk up as he came. There was a still moment where the Bone cast its judgment.
Just a moment.
Gong…
"Hardly took it a second!" laughed the Sage. "It knew he was the one—attaboy!"
Zane felt a certain kinship with this Earthbreaker Bone. He took a moment to admire it, to study those silver runes. He had a feeling if he took it, it'd serve him well.
But there was still one Bone left.
That was the Bone he'd been going toward all along. It hadn't really left his mind ever since he first saw it.
The feeling he got from it was unlike any of the others. He felt like he was standing at the bottom of some great mountain, looking up at a peak shrouded in clouds.
It was grand in a way only truly ancient things were. There were things men made that could inspire awe—world wonders, great basilicas—Zane had seen his share first on Earth, then in the wider galaxy. But when it came to awe, nature had more time to practice. Time made all the difference.
That was it. This Bone—he could feel the weight of time burdening it and exalting it, all at once. The Forgotten Bone was something else.
It glowed a little brighter as he stepped up to it, and he felt something in the Bone wash over him.
Then silence as the Bone deliberated.
Every Rhino there held its breath. It was a tense moment—although to the outside observer it'd look like nothing changed. That was just how the Rhinos were.
One heartbeat. Two. Three—
There was a surge of feeling in Zane's chest. His eyes widened.
And a moment later, the Horn exploded in silver light. A light that blasted over the Plains, and from the heart of that ancient treasure, there came a single note—
GONG.
It struck with a heavy finality. Rolled over the Plains of the Ancients like a peal of thunder, sending Blast Eagles into flight dozens of miles away. The grass it washed over stood stark upright—as though standing at attention. Long after it passed, the note echoed in the souls of all who heard it. A declaration.
For a moment, the Titan Rhinos blinked. Zane blinked too.
Then—"HELLS YEAH!" roared the Barbarian Sage.